


you're not okay, you're not fine

by tuomniia



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Near Death, Other, blood tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:47:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29474214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuomniia/pseuds/tuomniia
Summary: Cameron looks up again, feeling suddenly very dizzy. “Okay.” They say instead, stumbling backwards a step. The world spins around them. “I’m okay.”
Relationships: Detective/Ava du Mortain, Female Detective/Ava du Mortain
Kudos: 9





	you're not okay, you're not fine

Cameron laughs as they successfully dodge another strike. Sidestepping with skill they don’t usually possess, and whirling around to slam the butt of their taser into the base of the trapper’s skull. 

The man collapses against the ground in a jumble of limbs and bruises.

They were never particularly skilled at combat. Cameron’s tiny frame, lack of any impressive muscles, and general gravitation towards passive problem-solving all add up to make their fighting skills rather pathetic. 

An observation Ava is keen to point out every chance she gets. But maybe they’re getting better at it, because the man at their feet groans but doesn’t move again.

They stop patting their own back long enough to look around at the unit’s handiwork. Twelve trappers between the five of them had been pretty straightforward. Especially considering four of those five were superpowered vampires. The fighting had started and been ended in under five minutes.

Cameron smirks and reclines back on their heels. Easy-peasy. 

They spin around to see what the rest of the team is thinking, though their eyes instinctually look for the team leader first. The adrenaline from the fight adds extra flair to their movements, and they almost trip over their own legs in the rush. A grin has already settled itself on Cameron’s lips by the time they steady themselves. There she is.

She’s standing the farthest away compared to the rest, who are kicking through the bodies to make sure they’re all well and truly out for the count. 

She tosses down a pipe she’d been wielding as a weapon and glances up to meet Cameron’s eyes. Ava had been truly terrifying, swinging the iron with so much force that Cameron was more than sure that a few trappers would have some serious recovery time ahead of them. If they even survived. 

The look shared between them is an unspoken reassurance that the other is okay. Full of meaning, tides of emotion that makes Cameron’s heart swell as much as the confines of their ribs will allow. They both got out without getting hurt. Cameron’s own relief is reflected in Ava’s softening expression. They’re met in turn with a gentle quirk of her lips. Meant only for Cameron. Though they’re very aware of Farah snickering over their shoulder. 

A few strands of dark blonde hair has been pulled loose from her bun and hangs loosely in front of her cool eyes. 

Their heart flutters like butterfly wings, brushing against their insides pleasantly. 

They’re about to walk over, to see about maybe pushing that hair out of the way to see Ava’s green eyes clearly. To feel the softness of her skin under the tips of their fingers. But a scuffling noise just behind them makes them turn around instead. 

The man they thought they’d knocked unconscious has risen unsteadily to his feet. His bulk is no less intimidating now that he’s wobbling and off balance.

It takes Cameron a second too long to realize what’s happening, and they’re a second too late to stop it before it’s over. 

The man takes a quick, stumbling step towards them and shoves his entire weight into their slim body. The weight of his mass knocking them breathless as they both fall to the ground. He’s heavy. Reeks of stale cigarette smoke. Something sharp, maybe their holstered gun or his belt buckle, pinches their middle. The skin over their hip burns— 

Cameron gasps when pain explodes in the back of their head. Their skull meets the pavement with a _crack_ that reverberates right down their spine. Stars flash behind their eyes, colours they can’t name. Colours that don’t have a name. The air, forced from their lungs by the weight of the trapper, escapes as a strangled choking sound they will definitely be made fun of for, later. 

The man is torn off of them before they get a chance to do it themselves. 

Morgan hauls him to his feet with so much ease, it’s as though she’s only lifting a stack of papers. She tosses him hard into the aluminum wall of the factory warehouse they were gathered under. The sound of the metal collapsing under the force rattles around inside their head painfully.

She sneers as he hits the ground again, once more unmoving. He will not be getting back up this time.

“Thanks.” Cameron chokes out, voice hoarse from the effort of trying to breathe. Standing upright afterwards is difficult and it takes them a few stumbling attempts. Their legs don’t seem to want to work.

Their pulse throbs between their temples and through to the back of their skull, it hurts so much that it’s hard to think. 

They look up from the collapsed trapper, a joke already forming on their lips. Something about how they should have checked twice. But the sudden statue-like forms of their teammates silence anything they might have said. Cameron frowns, following their razor focus down to their own waist. 

“Oh.” They whisper, breathless with shock. 

_Blood_.

So much of it has stained their shirt, seeping through the cotton shirt under their unzipped jacket. As they watch, the dark substance of it seeps like a flower in bloom through the thick material of their coat. Shakily, they gently pull back the flap to reveal the bone handle of a knife jutting out of their stomach, just above their hip. Buried to the hilt.

“Okay.” They swallow, glancing up. Drawing a shuddering breath, their eyes find Ava again. 

Her cold eyes are trained with a single-minded, predatory intensity at the blood that is spreading down their leg through the fabric of their jeans. They can feel it collecting in their boot. Hot and sticky.

Cameron shifts their weight to keep from falling back down, and without thinking they grip the handle. The knife slides free. They let go. The blade clattering impossibly loud against the hard ground. Glancing down, the blade is stained red. Glinting and saturated in the daylight. Long and serrated. A hunting knife? Bowie? Cameron suddenly can’t place the name. It’s big, whatever it is. It doesn’t matter because blood begins to flow like a tap set on high. The heat of it burns against Cameron’s numbing legs. There is so much of it. Impossible amounts. There’s no way humans have this much blood.

They wonder suddenly if Unit Bravo is okay with this. No. Of course not. How could they be? It’s blood. Cameron’s blood. Their modified blood, blood that attracts supernaturals from miles around. Nat. Morgan. Farah. Ava. They’re not okay. Cameron wants to apologize, but the words stick in their throat. 

Cameron looks up again, feeling suddenly very dizzy. “Okay.” They say instead, stumbling backwards a step. The world spins around them. “I’m okay.” 

The pain registers next. Hot and unbearable and consuming. Someone has jammed a red iron through their insides. It’s burning like fire through to their core. It makes them double over and drop to their knees. The jarring movement of it sends another searing wave of pain surging up their middle.

They gasp and choke on their next breath from the sheer force of it.

Unit bravo seems to snap out of their haze as soon as Cameron hits the ground. Farah is the first one to reach them, propping Cameron upright by their shoulder and saying… _something_. Cameron can’t hear it over the pain. Can’t hear anything. Nat’s features come into focus to their right, and she’s saying something too, a phone in her hand. They think. They’re not sure. They’re seeing doubles.

Cameron stares at Farah’s golden eyes. Or maybe Nat’s brown? Both. They glance between them. She’s talking. Someone is talking. 

What is she saying? 

Sound comes back to them in an overwhelming rush, a roaring wave that makes them blink in recoil. Too loud. Overwhelming their senses. They wince away from it, but a firm hand holds them in place.

“Hey! It’s going to be fine. We’re going to get you to a hospital.” Farah assures them frantically, glancing up at Morgan who has a lit cigarette in her mouth and is drawing deep breaths of the acrid smelling smoke. Cameron tries to decipher her expression but the harder they stare, the more their vision blurs. They think that Morgan looks worried too, but they can’t be sure. Smoke collects in front of her in an intoxicating cloud.

“It’s okay.” They insist, “I’m okay.”

Ava drops into their vision, frantic and breathless. “Cam.” She breathes their nickname with such a weight that it brings some clarity back to Cameron’s thoughts. So much intensity that just for a moment, their life isn’t leaking onto the ground. Isn’t accumulating in a rich, impossibly red pool around their knees.

“Ava.” They croak back. The taste of copper stings the back of their throat. “I’m okay. Don’t worry.”

Ava’s green eyes, wide with fear, drop to the wound that pulses blood in time with the slowing beat of their heart. She drags her gaze away from it and meets Cameron’s eyes again. 

They want to brush the hair out of her eyes, and so their hand moves without permission. Gently grazing against Ava’s cheek. Unimpeded by self-doubt or second thoughts. Their fingers are bloody, and they leave several streaks of fresh crimson along her cheekbone. They tuck the loose hair behind her ear. She allows Cameron to touch her. But Ava is shaking. No. Wait. It’s Cameron who shakes. Why are they shaking so badly? They’d been steady a moment ago.

It doesn’t matter. Ava looks sick. That matters.

Her face is paler than usual. Eyes glittering brightly. Like a sun-bleached gemstone, wet from a summer rain. Is she. Crying? 

No. Ava doesn’t cry.

But she is. Why?

“Nat, you called the agency?” Someone asks in the background. Cameron isn’t sure who. But the voice is familiar.

A reply, sounding farther away than the last, “They’re coming.”

Ava’s hands tremble as she reaches forward to press against the wound in their side. Needing to stop the free flowing red. Needing to. She can’t. They think they hear her muttering the words under her breath. Cameron hisses at the spike of discomfort, and their arm automatically snaps forward to clamp their hand around Ava’s bicep. It’s warm and solid under their own unsteady hand.

They want to rest their head on her arm. They’re tired, they realize. So tired.

“Cameron, stay awake.” Ava commands with her usual authority when their eyes begin to flutter. 

They try to keep them open. It’s hard. Getting harder. 

Have they always felt this heavy? 

Nausea rolls around inside them like loose cargo on a ship at sea, and they want to close their eyes to brace against the storm. 

It would be so nice to just… go to sleep for a little while. 

“Hey!” Ava snaps again, much closer this time. Her face is right in front of Cameron now. “Stay with me.” 

“I’m okay.” Cameron replies, the words thick on their tongue. They think they might be slurring a little. 

They are not okay. 

Ava knows that too. Her brows furrow even tighter and she snaps. “It’s not okay!” Her voice shakes, volume rising. It’s too loud. Cameron thinks that they’ve never seen her this terrified before. “You’re not fine!”

“I am.” It’s all Cameron can think to say. Their thoughts are turning to sludge. Thick. Unmoving. They don’t want her to worry.

They want to kiss the worry from her lips.

Softly. Sweetly. They wonder how she tastes. 

Does she taste of iron? Of stone? 

“Ava,” a voice. Nat? No. Morgan. “Keep it together long enough to get them help, okay? Panicking isn’t going to…”

Cameron doesn’t hear the rest as the world swims around them. Shapes blur into colours, and the colours turn to something black but not. 

They can only see the green right in front of them.

  
Pale, like jade.

  
The most beautiful green they’ve ever seen.

Cold, usually. Not in the morning though, when they warm with the light.

Their favourite colour.

  
They never had one until now, they think. Until Ava.

  
_Ava._

She’s shaking their shoulders.

“Stay awake!”

  
  
Why are they laying down now? When did that happen?

  
  
The sky is so huge.

 _  
  
Sh_e’s outlined in white.

  
Lights flash at the corners of their vision.

Red. Blue. Red. Blue.

  
  
  
Pretty.

  
  
  
But not.

Beautiful.

  
  
  
Not like her green.

  
  
  
“ _Cameron_.”

  
  
  
Her voice is muffled as though separated by miles of water.

  
  
  
_They are drowning in it._

 _  
  
  
“Ple_ase, stay with me.”

A whisper.

  
  
_A plea._

 _  
  
Gr_een.

  
  
They want to stay.

  
  
  
Need to.

  
  
  
_Ava._

 _  
T_hey can’t.

  
  
  
  
Green.

  
  
_Beautiful_.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr @ tuomniia


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